Elevators

An Elevator is a most hypothetical object capable of lifting another object in addition to itself and weighing more than 188 gyup, or let us say 200 gyup in round numbers, vertically through the air to a reasonably large distance, let us say one lunanit. These numbers are chosen in such a way as to make it clear that a hork is not an elevator.

The reasons for the hypotheticalissimity of elevators are said to be threefold and as follows:

No one has ever discovered or, let us say, invented such a thing.

There is no point in only going straight up, for having gone straight up, let us say, what is there to do but go straight down, hopefully over a suitable object that can provide a soft landing rather than a distressingly loud THUMP and a cracked carapace.

Various parts of Ghyll now reserved for the brave and the bold would become accessible to mere-shmeer tourism.

The farts of Jimmy Lightning are quite bad enough, let us say, at ground level and in the open air; confined within an elevator they would be fifty times worse at least.

Let's try that again. The reasons for the hypotheticalissimity of elevators are said to be fourfold and as follows:

No.

In any case, because of point two above, we can say with extreme confidence that none of the usual secret organizations are pursuing research into elevators, not least because it seems obvious that an elevator must hang from something, which would then have to something, let us say, higher in the air than the elevator is expected to go, and how is one to get it there? Obviously with a still more effective elevator, already developed, than the elevator one is trying to develop. The which is impossible.

Unbelievers in the unpossibility of elevators or indeed unelevators point out that one could climb Mount Yurch or some tall castle or edifice and hang the elevator from the summit or rooftop. But this idea is useless, because Mount Yurch is not a sheer vertical face, and indeed if it had been, not even a Grommie could have climbed it. And if anything is clear about elevators, it's that the horizontal component of their motion is neither more nor less than zero. So in order to obey the spirit rather than the letter of the Yurchian proposal one must first climb a sheer cliff, presumably from the other, sloping, or non-vertiginous side. But where? And indeed, you say, whereabove, or whereunder?

Well.

There is one possibility, let us say.

How was it that the Stone of Wisdom became sufficiently elevated to squash, let us say, Mr. C______ and Mr. V_____?'

Obviously, it was elevated with an elevator.

And as it is the most elementary proposition of theoalchemy that knowing that something can be done is the first and largest step toward doing it, this argument, ineffable in its infallibility, let us say, we can see that there is hope yet.